Glorious Longing (Dreams Of Eternal Sea)
by Patrick P Stafford
Rated "G" by the Author.
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The ultimate, passionate ocean poem!
Glorious Longing (Dreams Of Eternal Sea)
Here is my world on the edge of a fading star:
Dreams of nebulae open slowly below me
And dethroned kings would tell me how remote they are,
How long the god of my soul has died to show me!
How long the age of a dream creeps from page to page.
How long I've lived in hope to write my life's story,
And find I was not changed by cynicism or rage
But was restored through tranquillity and glory!
We journey our lives in acceptance or denial
Then choose or repress our souls with venom or bile:
That we are not bleeders of oozing, blood-soaked sand
--Victims of the earth...victimizers of the land!
Still, I remain an uncomplicated dreamer,
A silent, significantly simple schemer,
Sowing the walled world and all its ignoble strife,
Seeking the blessed lifetime of every once-blessed life!
Purged of madness and resentment and confusion,
Devoid of fear and anger and self-delusion;
A dreamer of freedom who at last was set free,
--Salvaged by the cold, cruel ravages of the sea!
Oh how I long a pirate's ship at my command!
The crossbones on my mast, a cutlass in my hand!
A lifetime of ebb and flow and ocean-soaked sand!
The sight of soaring sea gulls and whimsical whales!
The sound of crushing, crashing waves and screeching gales!
--A deck beneath my feet--the wind against my sails!
Here is my world on the ridge of a failing art:
With Odin at my back and Thor at my shoulder.
Now I stand dauntless, with a revitalized heart,
Though the sea of land turns cold and the sea colder!
Though the chains of my mind grow frail of armored links,
Though kings have always lived and died to betray me,
And my pirate ship reaches safe harbor, then sinks!
--The murderers of my dreams shall never slay me!
The land had been my prison and its earth my cell,
And its way has been the way of heaven and Hell!
The way that I had slept passively in its tomb,
--A dreamer of doomed dreams longing to be exhumed!
Still, I remain untransformed from every other:
A child of trust--its voiceless father and mother!
A survivor of cliffs, the scaler of its form!
A reaper of peace, an healer of fire and storm!
Purged of pain and suffering and cursed elation!
Emptied of guilt and remorse and self-damnation!
A flower of Spring, and the seed of flowered love,
The mighty, shameless hawk--the meek, innocent dove!
Oh how I long to feel the rocks jag up and out!
To be thrown starboard and lee, then in and about!
To see the clouds burst, to hear them bellow and shout!
Waves rising and falling...and lungs thirsting for air!
A touch of joy and pathos--of hope and despair!
--The sea upon my lips, its spray kissing my hair!
Here is my God in the midst of a child's garden:
Once without the passion of sensing sound and sight,
The mind would not forgive, the heart could not pardon
The dreadful years of yearning darkness over light!
The dead years, whose dying fears gave up love for hate,
And life's frozen tears: a landslide of snow and sleet
Whose strange, glorious longing I had longed from fate,
Showed too much my death, whose rage I could not defeat!
For the land was my grave, the plains my graven stone,
And love had been the dream that I had dreamt alone!
But beyond darkness, a braver dream would take hold:
A dream of love--more precious than a pirate's gold!
For darkness and death--I have become their slayer!
A fighter for life--its friend, not its betrayer!
A destroyer of strife--a man of hope and truth:
The salt of the earth, the wisdom of deathless youth!
And, as I love the sea--love is its greatest good!
For if I had to give up my life, as I would,
If not for love, if not to reach its god-like shore,
Tell me, what better cause could I give my life for?
So yes, I yearn the sea, the wild wind, and the tameless tide!
Surf, foam and spray--blowing, flowing--to and fro undenied!
The drowning waves upon me! And you, my Love, at my side!
For as I live and savor salt, seaweed and blood-soaked sand,
Here, far from all the lost, dying dreams of desolate land,
I long to sail my ship, with Odin and Thor near at hand!
Here, with friend or foe, embarking from the same deathless shores!
Now at peace with life, and with the sea streaming from my pores!
Here, with my God at the helm...here, with my soul at the oars!